Chapter 1 ~ Into the Black
It was warm. Hot. The flood of blood and
memory that poured from the wound in John Cap's chest. The tip of
the pike was crude but sharp. His human skin was no match for
it.
“Unh!”
Then everything came rushing back to him.
Just before the world went black it played like a movie in his
mind. Her. Them. He remembered. And smiled.
“Goodbye Vaam…”
The universe was in trouble.
It all began before the darkness. Six years
back. When he was still Johnny… Johnny . That kid seemed
forever ago. And his own life story sounded like lore…
“Hank! Hold up!” he begged his big brother.
“What’s the rush?”
Hank barely looked back.
“Rusty’s got something new for tonight.
Don’t wanna miss it.”
“What?”
“You’ll see.”
He followed Hank’s climb up the long, narrow
road. Past Broder’s Pond. By the rambling old May house. They hit
the main hill and he fell back further. Johnny sighed.
“Better not start without me…”
That’s when he heard a voice from behind — a
little one — wheezy and out of breath. Yep, it was Haylee. She came
running.
“Wait for me… Johnny…” The girl meant
business. Her flip-flops slapped the tar as she ran.
He came to a dead stop and spun around. His
hands automatically waved her away.
“No. Go home Sis. The trick’s just for
guys.”
“Says who?” Then she grinned. “I’ll tell on
you… promise…”
Johnny knew he’d lost.
“Come on.”
Hank was already out of sight by now, but
they knew where he went.
The sun had just about set when they reached
the last house before the top of the hill. A dull gray dump on a
mini plateau. It was all by itself and hard to miss. Still, Johnny
announced, “The Carver place.” It could have easily passed for a
junkyard.
It even came with a junkyard dog. The pit
bull charged at Johnny and Haylee before they made the cluttered
driveway.
Grrrrrr…
He showed his sharpened teeth.
Rusty reluctantly called him off.
“Killer!” He glared at Hank and spit. “Okay.
So who invited the rug rats?”
Hank shrugged his shoulders and kicked the
dirt. He acted like he didn’t know them.
Just then a couple of older boys emerged
from an opening in the woods. Rusty barked at them. “It’s about
time!”
Eastie, a wise guy with wavy black hair,
carried a baggy old pocketbook. Big Oakes was the neighborhood
giant. He lugged a bucket and held his nose.
“Had to get it fresh,” he explained. “Used
all our cow chips up the last time.”
Rusty shook his ginger head. “Whatever.
Shovel’s in the garage. Start filling the bag — but leave some
room.”
Eastie and Oakes got right to work. Rusty
turned back to Hank and pointed.
“Grab that broom Cappy. Hold it out…
Straighter… Figure I need at least five pieces.”
Rusty reached into his father’s toolbox and
pulled out a rip saw with shark-like teeth. “Good enough.” Then he
started cutting.
Before long the broom was history. A pile of
sawdust and short wooden dowels. Rusty picked up the candle-size
sticks and made a stack on the driveway wall, right next to a spray
can and spool of twine.
“Tie ‘em up for me,” he ordered Hank while
shaking the can. “Then I’ll do the honors…”
He showed Hank the label. “Check out the
color.”
“Dynamite red.”
They laughed out loud.
Eastie and Oakes had a snicker too. Haylee
asked Johnny, “What’s so funny?”
He had a guess but said, “I dunno.”
Pssssss…
Rusty sprayed the bundle. He put it on
heavy. The paint dripped like blood. Though he didn’t bother to let
it dry. He lifted it edgewise. “This goes on top.”
Eastie brought over the brown leather bag
and opened it up. The stink was epic.
“Be my guest.”
Rusty shoved it in.
But his freckled face sank. “There’s
something missing.”
Rusty made Hank and Oakes look too. They
winced at the smell. Hank kept his distance.
“You can’t really tell what it’s s’posed to
be,”
It was warm. Hot. The flood of blood and
memory that poured from the wound in John Cap's chest. The tip of
the pike was crude but sharp. His human skin was no match for
it.
“Unh!”
Then everything came rushing back to him.
Just before the world went black it played like a movie in his
mind. Her. Them. He remembered. And smiled.
“Goodbye Vaam…”
The universe was in trouble.
It all began before the darkness. Six years
back. When he was still Johnny… Johnny . That kid seemed
forever ago. And his own life story sounded like lore…
“Hank! Hold up!” he begged his big brother.
“What’s the rush?”
Hank barely looked back.
“Rusty’s got something new for tonight.
Don’t wanna miss it.”
“What?”
“You’ll see.”
He followed Hank’s climb up the long, narrow
road. Past Broder’s Pond. By the rambling old May house. They hit
the main hill and he fell back further. Johnny sighed.
“Better not start without me…”
That’s when he heard a voice from behind — a
little one — wheezy and out of breath. Yep, it was Haylee. She came
running.
“Wait for me… Johnny…” The girl meant
business. Her flip-flops slapped the tar as she ran.
He came to a dead stop and spun around. His
hands automatically waved her away.
“No. Go home Sis. The trick’s just for
guys.”
“Says who?” Then she grinned. “I’ll tell on
you… promise…”
Johnny knew he’d lost.
“Come on.”
Hank was already out of sight by now, but
they knew where he went.
The sun had just about set when they reached
the last house before the top of the hill. A dull gray dump on a
mini plateau. It was all by itself and hard to miss. Still, Johnny
announced, “The Carver place.” It could have easily passed for a
junkyard.
It even came with a junkyard dog. The pit
bull charged at Johnny and Haylee before they made the cluttered
driveway.
Grrrrrr…
He showed his sharpened teeth.
Rusty reluctantly called him off.
“Killer!” He glared at Hank and spit. “Okay.
So who invited the rug rats?”
Hank shrugged his shoulders and kicked the
dirt. He acted like he didn’t know them.
Just then a couple of older boys emerged
from an opening in the woods. Rusty barked at them. “It’s about
time!”
Eastie, a wise guy with wavy black hair,
carried a baggy old pocketbook. Big Oakes was the neighborhood
giant. He lugged a bucket and held his nose.
“Had to get it fresh,” he explained. “Used
all our cow chips up the last time.”
Rusty shook his ginger head. “Whatever.
Shovel’s in the garage. Start filling the bag — but leave some
room.”
Eastie and Oakes got right to work. Rusty
turned back to Hank and pointed.
“Grab that broom Cappy. Hold it out…
Straighter… Figure I need at least five pieces.”
Rusty reached into his father’s toolbox and
pulled out a rip saw with shark-like teeth. “Good enough.” Then he
started cutting.
Before long the broom was history. A pile of
sawdust and short wooden dowels. Rusty picked up the candle-size
sticks and made a stack on the driveway wall, right next to a spray
can and spool of twine.
“Tie ‘em up for me,” he ordered Hank while
shaking the can. “Then I’ll do the honors…”
He showed Hank the label. “Check out the
color.”
“Dynamite red.”
They laughed out loud.
Eastie and Oakes had a snicker too. Haylee
asked Johnny, “What’s so funny?”
He had a guess but said, “I dunno.”
Pssssss…
Rusty sprayed the bundle. He put it on
heavy. The paint dripped like blood. Though he didn’t bother to let
it dry. He lifted it edgewise. “This goes on top.”
Eastie brought over the brown leather bag
and opened it up. The stink was epic.
“Be my guest.”
Rusty shoved it in.
But his freckled face sank. “There’s
something missing.”
Rusty made Hank and Oakes look too. They
winced at the smell. Hank kept his distance.
“You can’t really tell what it’s s’posed to
be,”
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